Six Legged Moose
by InkFlow
Summary: On a whim Russia decides to visit his friend Canada's house, where he learns of a strange Hobby of Canada's. SiberianMoose bromance drabble. Rated T for blood and that one swear word that I let slip.


Six Legged Moose

By: InkFlow

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Russia was currently walking through the thick Canadian forest towards Canada's house. Normally he would drive to the Canadian's house but his younger sister had dropped in unexpectedly that night at his house so he took the first plane to Canada and was rather unprepared. The flight been long, but Russia managed to sleep on the plane with little problem. He was awake and alert now as he huffed it through the fresh, deep snow.

Russia was taking a short cut to Canada's house that went strait through the surrounding forest. He had done this a few times before on other surprise arrivals of his little sister, so Russia knew the way fairly well.

It was early in the morning and clouds were scattered throughout the sky. The forest was quiet and all Russia could hear was the sound of his footsteps. He found the area rather peaceful. The peace of being alone in the forest didn't last long for Russia, he soon heard other steps, coming from just north of him. There were multiple footsteps, suggesting multiple organisms, they were very faint and far away but Russia was still able to hear them come his way. What he expected was a small herd of animals or a group of people hiking out in the area, what he didn't expect was to be shot at.

BANG!

Russia thought it was hunters for a shot second before he felt the bullet scrape his arm. Holy shit, whoever was out there was shooting at him! Russia winced a little and grabbed his injured arm. Blood slowly began to stream out of his arm. Soon enough he saw a small figure heading his way.

"*Show your self poacher!*" A voice shouted in French.

"*What!?*" Russia yelled back in Russian.

"*What?*" The voice asked, coming closer, Russia could make out a faint out line of a creature. "*Who is there!?*" The voice called out again.

"*I'm sorry but I don't understand very much French!*" Russia said, not thinking to ask if the other spoke English.

"*Who are you?*" The voice now said to him in broken Russian. Russia could see the figure getting bigger as they came closer to him, they seemed to be on horseback.

"*I should ask you the same thing! Going around shooting people!" Russia was quite irritated at this strange figure.

"*Are you poacher?*" The figure asked in more broken Russian.

"*No! I'm not! I'm just passing through to meet a friend who lives around here!*" Russia saw the figure come closer, was that a moose they were riding?

BANG!

Another shot was fired down by Russia's feet as a warning of some sort.

"*Bullshit!*" The voice shouted in French once again, it switched back to it's broken form of Russian, "*I only one who live here!*"

"*... Then perhaps you know him?*" Russia asked. The figure was closing in and he could make out the shotgun in his arms, the bow on his back, and the other guns on the... yep, that was a moose, "*His name is Matthew WIlliams.*"

"...Russia?" The figure said once he came into clear view, switching to English. Russia could identify him as Canada, the fucking moron he was looking for in the first place.

"Canada?" Russia asked also switching to English.

Before him was none other than the personification of Canada, riding a full grown bull moose bare back... a bull moose that appeared to have six legs. He was wearing a full canadian mounted police uniform and was loaded with three, visible, guns, a bow, and a quiver of arrows attatched to his waist. What... The... Fuck? Russia had never really seen Canada, much less anyone, in such a position.

"Oh! Hello there Russia!" Canada now said in his more traditional quiet voice, a small smile gracing his lips, "Are you a Poacher?" He asked in a childish innocence.

"Umm... No Canada," Russia said still in obvious shock, "What are you doing?"

"Simple, I'm hunting poachers who come across my forest land," Canada answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Russia held his questioning look on Canada, who explained more, "I do this at least once a month in various forests in my country lands. I really hate poachers..." Canada frowned at the thought before bringing his gaze back to Russia, "And what are you doing here? Might I ask?"

"I was coming to visit you. I didn't have enough time to pack anything nor rent a car," Russia answered.

"Hmm..." Canada nodded understanding why Russia was here, for this had occured before. Well not this exact predicament, this was a first.

"Why are you riding a... a six legged moose?" Russia asked, the strange creature nuzzeled him slightly, he gave it a slight stratch on its nose.

"Oh him? He just makes it easier to get poachers since I don't really want to take care of a horse when a moose can live on its own in the wild," Canada answered.

"And why-"

"I don't know why he has six legs, it was probably a mutation from when he was born," Canada cut off Russia's question.

"Ah, I see," Russia said simply.

Canada climbed off of the bull moose taking the guns off with him. He gave the moose a light pat on its back and it walked off, seeming not to be bothered by its extra limbs and using them as it would the other four legs. Russia watched it walk off, when it was out of sight he brought his eyes back to Canada, who had put his other two guns on a sling on his back while still holding the shot gun in his hands. Canada's eyes seemed to widen.

"Oh jeese! Your arm, I forgot that I nicked you!" Canada said in a slight panic, "Come on we can head to my house and I can bandage that for you."

"..." Russia looked at the arm he was still holding, he had forgotten about that. Most of the blood had stopped flowing now thankfully.

Canada began heading off to his house, Russia quickly followed behind him. Within a couple of minutes they had reached Canada's home. Russia remembered the humble little log cabin that Canada lived in, Russia liked it, it was warm and homey unlike the large home he had in his homeland. They entered the little home and both kicked off their shoes to the side. Canada pulled off his jacket after setting his weaponry down in a room just to the right of the short hallway.

"...Um, d-do you need help with taking off you jacket?" Canada asked returning to his normally quiet voice.

"Oh, yes thank you," Russia said. I would have beem harder getting the jacket off with the blood making it stick to his arm.

With a few tugs here and there Russia's jacket came off. Canada set it on a coat rack with his own before bringing Russia over to a bathroom. Canada rolled up Russia's shirt sleeve to expose the skin to the warm air of the household. Opening a sink cabnet, Canada grabbed a first aid kit and began cleaning Russia's wound.

"Again, I'm sorry about hitting you," Canada said without looking up from Russia's wound.

"It is no problem Canada. I have been hurt in worse ways," Russia replyed with a small, and somewhat creepy, smile.

"O-oh please, you can call me Matthew," Canada, Matthew said.

"Really?" Russia asked a little taken aback by the sudden statement.

"Yeah, we're friends, right?" Matthew took his eyes from the now bandaged arm with a smile towards Russia, "All done."

"Yes. Thank you Matthew," Russia said testing the new name on his tongue. Before the two friends had yet to exchange human names, Russia smiled. "...You can call me Ivan then."

Matthew smiled brighter, "Ok Ivan."

There was amoment of silence between the two before a third voice broke its way in, "I'm hungry," it said.

"Hello there kumakero, would you like something to eat?" Matthew asked turning his attention away from Russia and to the small white bear now sitting at the entrance of the bathroom.

"Yes!" The bear said excitedly.

"Come on then, " Matthew said leading the bear to the kitchen, he turned back to Ivan, "Would you like something to eat Ivan?"

Ivan nodded following behind Matthew, glad to be included.

~oUo~

A/N: Ok that's all I have, this is just a twerpish little drabble that I decided to type out. None of the Russian of French is translated because that would be too much effort on my part.

Yeah... I should be working on As Per Usual Meeting You... But I'm not.

owo~ InkFlow


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